


La Musique de la Nuit

by Life_on_Vega



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, It's just a show of the musical, Romance, shameless fluff, so this wouldn't fit under the Phantom of the Opera tag itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Life_on_Vega/pseuds/Life_on_Vega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written in December of 2012.</p><p>(Human AU, one-shot.)  Madeleine Williams and Francis Bonnefoy are in a production of The Phantom of the Opera together, playing the roles of Christine Daae and Erik, (the titular phantom) respectively.  The two have feelings for one another, but aren't sure if they should act their emotions.  Perhaps a little music might help...</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Musique de la Nuit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mistflyer1102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/gifts).



> A/N: “The house” is a term referring to the theatre seats – the place where the audience sits, not the stage.  
> Among people heavily involved in acting, the term “actress” has fallen out of favor, so I use “actor” for all the cast members.  
> The “wings” are the areas immediately off-stage, where the cast waits for their cue to come on.  
> The “backstage” is the place behind the stage, often containing dressing rooms, restrooms, storage space, etc. Backstages can be large or small, depending on the size of the theatre, and may or may not include practice spaces. Large, professional theatres often have private dressing rooms for the lead actors, and communal spaces for the chorus.  
> “Blocking” is essentially stage directions – it tells the actors where to go and how to move.  
> Among people on a show, song titles are often shortened for ease of communication.  
> Terms like “stage left,” “stage right,” “downstage,” and “upstage” are all from the actor’s point of view, looking at the audience.  
> Lines of poetry are put in italics and have two spaces and a forward slash between them. I have decided to use this method to render long stretches of song lyrics.

_“Softly, deftly, music shall caress you,_

_Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you-”_

“Ah, wait, stop stop stop!” shouted a voice from the theatre.  The pianist in the orchestra pit stopped playing and sighed.

Francis Bonnefoy abruptly pulled his hand away from his blushing co-star’s face.  Madeleine Williams turned her face away from the floor to look toward the house.

The director, Julius Roma, stood and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Madeleine, you’re looking away again!”

“Ah, I’m sorry…”  This, of course, did nothing to relieve the blush already on her face.

“Remember, you’ve got to keep looking at him!  This is the song where he’s seducing you!”  Madeleine was about look down again, but caught herself halfway through the motion.  “And you, Francis, remember that you need to use the stage!  Don’t forget the blocking – go upstage and around on the fifth verse!”

“Ah, yes, of course,” but by the glance he gave Madeleine, he seemed less concerned about stage directions than about the woman next to him.

Roma pulled up his brown jacket sleeve to glance at his watch.  “We’ll work on this tomorrow; we’ve got other songs to practice.”  Looking around his seat, he picked up a stack of handwritten notes to his left.  Shuffling through them, he called, “All right, everyone who sings in the Prima Donna number, onstage!  Madeleine, you have a break.  Francis, you can sit this out, too, you’ve only got two spoken lines.”

The pair walked offstage as the other actors walked on.  After a moment, the director bellowed, “Where are my grandsons?!”

“Probably taking a nap as usual,” joked Francis under his breath.  He looked over to see if Madeleine smiled, but her face was still creased in worry.  The lead actors wandered off the wings and into one of the hallways backstage.  The hall was relatively clear except for a few chorus members, and row of black plastic chairs against one side.  Madeleine sat in one, rested her head against the concrete wall, and sighed.  Francis sat beside her and opened his mouth.

“Francis, I’m sorry – I, I’ve really been struggling with Music of the Night, and I just – I’m sorry for making you go through all this.”

Somewhere from the stage beyond the wall, they heard the muffled opening line of a song, _“Prima donna, first lady of the stage!  Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!”_

Francis started.  “No no no, I just want to know what’s been bothering you.  If there’s anything I can do…”

She blushed, and he wasn’t sure why.  “No, it’s not you, it’s me.”  She paused.  “Ah, that’s really clichéd.  But it really is me.  I’ve just… never done a song like this before.”

“A song like this?  What do you mean?  You’ve been in plenty of shows…”

“Um, well… ‘The Music of the Night’ is a special song because of-” she looked to the floor again, “Well, you already know, you’re the Phantom, but, I mean… It’s a pretty sexy song, if you think about it, and I haven’t done anything like that.”  She said the last line quietly.

_“Can you deny us the triumph in store?  Sing, prima donna, once more!”_

It was his turn to gaze at the floor.  “…Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!  No, not at all!  You’re really nice, and sweet, and you’re always so- so…”  _How could she describe how he made her feel?_

He looked up eagerly, and something like hope glimmered in his chest.  Unfortunately, Madeleine seemed to realize that she had begun to say too much.  “Anyway, I’m fine with you on the stage.  I try to control my reactions, I really do.  But, then I start thinking about the song, and how we’re up there, and how everybody is watching us… and then I get self-conscious.”

Francis laced his fingers together, rested his chin on top, and put his elbows on his legs.  “Maybe what you need is more time.  More time to get used to the song, and more time to forget about the audience…”

“Yeah… maybe.”  She didn’t seem convinced.

He put an arm around her shoulders, which earned a small smile.  “We have a few months.  We have time to practice.”

The sound of quick feet echoed in the hall.  The pair looked up to see Feliks, one of the costume designers.  “Madeleine, okay, so, we need you in the back, because we have _got_ to get your measurements on the ‘Think of Me’ dress.”

“All right.”  She stood up and turned to her companion. “Thanks, Francis.”

“Anytime.”  He watched them walk away, only half-listening as Feliks described how the dress would look “totally amazing” under the stage lights.

So… that was the trouble.  If what she said about him was any indication (and oh, how he hoped it was) she might have feelings for him.  He hid his smile behind his hands.  To use her words, Madeleine was “nice and sweet” too.  There was something that drew him closer to her.  He hadn’t felt it when they had first met after they were cast for their roles, or even after the first few times they practiced their songs together.  It was on the day that he realized that his favorite parts of the show were still with her even after practicing them hundreds of times that he knew.  He was first impressed by how effortlessly she stepped into the role of Christine, but was then taken by how shy she could be offstage.  This, of course, led him to ask her why, which led to long stories about how each of them got into acting, which caused them to miss their cue when the director called for them, and Madeleine flushed but certainly didn’t seem to regret it, and that smile she had at the time was wonderful…

 _But,_ a thought admonished him, _was this really the proper time to be thinking about that when Madeleine was clearly worried about the song?_   He felt a slight prickle of guilt.  _And telling her about your affection for her might only distract you both._   …He hadn’t had that thought before with any of his previous lovers.  The right thing to do would be to get her settled with this song.  Now, how to go about doing that…?

_“Prima donna, the world is at your feet!  A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!”_

Well, he should at least tell Director Roma what the problem was.  Perhaps he would have an idea.  Besides, it was nearly time for his two lines.

There was a one-way door that connected this backstage hallway to the house.  It was normally locked during performances, but it was open now.  Pushing it open slowly, so as not to create too much noise, he slipped inside the theatre.  The door shut behind him as the cast finished their verse.

 _“So, it is to be war between us!  If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!”_ he shouted.  The cast hadn’t expected him to be there, and he enjoyed the momentary surprise on their faces.  Perhaps he enjoyed this Phantom role a little too much.

He strolled into the director’s row of seats as the cast finished their last note.

“Hm, coming in from the side door…  I have to remember that,” said Roma, scribbling a note down.  “All right, five minute break before we practice that song again!” he called to the stage.  “How can I help you, Francis?”

Francis took a seat next to the director.  “Well, I may have found the reason why Madeleine is having trouble with the Music of the Night.”

“Oof, that song…” said Roma, flipping through his notes.  “She’s fine with the others – needs a little work with ‘Point of No Return,’ but not much…  So, what is it?”

“It seems to be,” said Francis, crossing one leg over, “That she’s simply not used to doing a song that’s romantic in that way.  So, she keeps thinking about how the audience is there, and that throws her off.”

“Eh, well, the only advice I can really give for that is to just keep working on it,” he said, turning to the actor.  “With practice, she’ll be able to hold back her reactions.  But once she does that, then she’ll have to work on expressing the emotions she needs to in that scene…”  He sighed.  “I’m a little worried that we’ll have to practice the song until opening night.”

“Do I need to change anything about my acting?”

“That’s the other problem, you’re holding back for her.  I can understand why you’re doing that, but it also makes that song weaker.  With time, we might be able to get the two of you to bring the drama that song needs.”

Francis gave a non-committal hum and stared into space.  Was there anything he could do to solve the problem sooner…?  Something he could say or do differently…?

“Director Roma?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I may have an idea…”

* * *

 

“Hey!  Maddie!”

Madeleine turned to see her friend, Amelia, jogging up to her.  She had just managed to leave the dressing room after getting through all of her measurements and nodding along with Feliks’s chatter.

“Yeah?  What is it?”

The American skidded to a halt in front of her and pulled a dirty-blonde piece of hair out of the way.  “Okay, so, the director wanted me to tell you that you and Francis are gonna stay late tonight to work on a song.”

It took a second for Madeleine to absorb what she said.  “Oh, then, we’ll probably work on The Music of the Night…”

The frown and the furrowed brows didn’t escape Amelia.  “What, have you gotten tired of the song?”

“Eh, maybe… well, not really.”

That wasn’t much of an answer.  Amelia pursed her lips in thought.  “Well, do you not like the song because you don’t like Francis and that makes it really awkward?”

“What?!  No!  I don’t _not_ like-  Um, I don’t hate him!  And I don’t hate the song either!  In fact, it’s really the opposite problem because…” she suddenly became keenly aware of how many people were around.  Oh god, she didn’t want to have this conversation here…!

Amelia knew the beginnings of a juicy secret when she saw one.  Grabbing Madeleine’s hand, she pulled her down the hallway, wrenched open the door of an empty dressing room, and pushed her inside.  She braced herself against the door and grinned.  “Oh my gosh, spill it – you like Francis, don’t you?”

Madeleine blushed and looked away.  “…Yes.”

Amelia squealed and clapped her hands.  “So, like, for every single song are you just head-over-heels?”

“No, not for every one!  Just for Music of the Night, and that’s why I’m having problems with it!”

Amelia frowned.  “Music of the Night?  Kinda slow, isn’t it?  I would think that it would be Past the Point of No Return because, you know, Don Juan is coming in to seduce you…”

She gave an exasperated sigh.  “I’m fine with Point of No Return because I know that it’s the Phantom, and I’m supposed to be scared and attracted…”  She shook her head.  “Well, mostly scared, you get the idea.  Besides, haven’t you heard the lyrics to Music of the Night?”

Her friend arched an eyebrow.  “It’s about music… and night… and… escaping light n’ stuff.  Not one of my favorites.”

“Ugh, just look up the words.”  Madeleine rolled her eyes.  “Or, better yet, ask Arthur to sing it to you, and then you’ll see what I mean.”

“Hey!  That’s a low blow!”

“Well, he’ll never know you have feelings for him unless you do _something_!”

“But when am I supposed to talk to him?  He’s Raoul, he’s onstage all the time!”

“Try Music of the Night or Somehow Here Again, that’s two whole songs,” said Madeleine.  “Better yet, just look around and see if he’s free!”

“And what do I-!” She stopped.  “Wait one minute, we’re talking about your love life, not mine!  Okay, so back to my point, tell him how you feel.”

“I could say the same to you,” said Madeleine.  She grew quiet for a moment.  “But… what if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way?  I mean, I’m risking my feelings, but I’m also risking the show.  If he says no, then things really will be awkward between us, and the scenes will suffer because of that.”

Amelia ran a hand through her hair.  Maddie had a point.  “Well, how has he been acting toward you?  Has he been talking to you a lot, or asking if you want to do stuff with him…?”

She leaned back on the counter in front of the mirror and stared at the ceiling.  “He’s… been talking to me a lot, actually.  And we just talk about… stuff.  I couldn’t tell you what.  He’s really easy to talk to, and our conversations always end up being really long…  Even if it’s about really mundane things, somehow he’s always got something interesting to say.  And, you know, I’m not the most interesting person, so I’m really glad he can do that…”  She glanced at Amelia.  “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sure enough, her wolfish grin had returned.  “OK, I’m thinking that’s a really good sign.  What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“Does he compliment you a lot?  Does he find excuses to be with you?  Does he look at you in a certain way?”

She paused before she spoke.  Come to think of it, he had been doing most of those things.  He always found something to praise her on – he said over and over again that he liked her hair, her eyes, and her smile.  But he also praised her artistic abilities.  He applauded her after the first time she sang “Think of Me” onstage, and on another day he said that she fit beautifully into her role.  That led to the discussion about how she got into acting, and he told her his own story…  But yes, their conversations were like that.  He didn’t really need to find excuses to be with her, he just naturally seemed to wander over and talk about something.  Come to think of it, perhaps he did have a special look for her.  Madeleine had been holding on to the conversation for a while – she had been really excited to talk about the time she saw some polar bears – when she realized that Francis hadn’t said anything in a while.  She looked over at him, and he wasn’t saying anything, just gazing at her with a contented smile.  (It was also the moment when she was struck by how handsome he was, but Amelia didn’t need to know that.)

Oh, that’s right, Amelia was still there.  “Well, I’m guessing that’s a yes,” she said, matter-of-factly.  “So, if you like him, and if you think he likes you, then you should try.”

“Okay,” said Madeleine, taking a breath, “Okay.  But you need to tell Arthur at some point, too.”

“Oh… fine.  But seriously, tell Francis tonight, it’s the perfect opportunity.”  With that, she turned around, opened the door, and looked into the hallway.  She hesitated before going out.

“What is it?” asked Madeleine, coming to her side.

She turned.  “Arthur’s out there.  He’s alone.  He’s just muttering to himself.”

Madeleine took a quick peek, and sure enough, there he was, talking under his breath.  He was probably reciting his lines.

“Well, this is the perfect opportunity, isn’t it?  You can tell him right now,” she said, glancing at her friend.

“Okay.”  She took a breath, puffing out her chest.  She steeled herself, her face determined.  “…Later.”  And she dashed off before Madeleine could protest.  She didn’t chase after her, she just smiled and rubbed her forehead.  Some people never changed.

* * *

 

It was late in the evening.  She spent the last thirty minutes of the rehearsal with the vocal coach, Mrs. Karpusi, smoothing out the leaps to the high notes in “Think of Me” and “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.”  After reminding her to practice those sections, she left with her drowsy son in tow.

…So, there were no more distractions.  The only thing left to do was to practice with Francis.

She waited for five minutes in the practice room, wondering if he or the director would meet her there.  (With a sinking feeling, she realized that Amelia had never told her where to meet them.)  After that, she figured they weren’t coming, so she stepped into the hallway.

For any production, the hallways were a chaotic affair, and there was always someone milling about.  Oddly, no one was there.  The hall was deserted – not even the stragglers who usually left late were hanging around.

It was an odd feeling to look around in the other rooms to find no one.  But at least she had taken out all of the other possibilities – the only place where they could be was the house.  She opened the stage door, walked across the wings, and saw Francis on the stage kneeling in front of a CD player.

She looked around.  The stage lights were on, but the house lights were off.  It was hard to see into the audience, but if she stared for a moment, she could see rows of empty seats.

“It’s a little creepy, isn’t it?  Nobody’s here and most of the lights are off…” she walked toward Francis, and he glanced at her and smiled.  “And, where’s our director?”

“Actually, he left,” he said, “You said you were nervous when other people were watching.  No one else is here.  It’s just you and me.”  He shut the lid on the CD player and began to twist a dial on the front.  “Go over and sit where the boat will be during Music of the Night.  Since the set pieces are put away, we’ll need to make up the choreography for some parts.  That won't be a problem, right?”

“I’m sure Roma will shout at us later,” she replied.  Francis laughed.

Madeleine turned around and walked to center stage left.  Pieces of tape that marked the corners of a rectangle showed where the boat would be.  Carefully sitting down, she lay her legs to her left side and smoothed her white skirt.

Downstage, Francis skipped to the end of the recording of “Phantom of the Opera.”  He walked over to his starting position on stage right, and waited for the instrumental track of “Music of the Night” to begin.

The air was still just before the opening chords began to play.

_“Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation / Darkness stirs and wakes imagination / Silently the senses abandon their defenses…”_

Over his shoulder, he turned his head toward her.  The look on his face grabbed her attention.  His mouth curled in an alluring smile, and his eyes were bright.  They were a nice shade of blue, weren’t they…?

_“Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor / Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender…”_

He was slowly walking toward her, still looking at her.

_“Turn your face away from the garish light of day / Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light…”_

By now, Francis had stepped in front of her, and offered his hand to help her up.  Madeleine took it and stood, still staring at his face.

_“And listen to the music of the night.”_

He let go of her hand, stepping away from her, but she remained where he left her.  Still looking at her, Francis swept across stage right.

_“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams / Purge all thoughts of the life you knew before / Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…”_

Slowly, he approached her again, that same emotion still in his eyes.

_“And you’ll live as you’ve never lived before.”_

Madeleine took a step toward him.

_“Softly, deftly, music shall caress you / Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you…”_

Lightly, he brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face.

She’d always known in her head that Francis had a wonderful singing voice, but now, when his voice was so low and enticing…

_“Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind / In this darkness that you know you cannot fight / And listen to the music of the night.”_

…She didn’t need to think at all about acting.  The thought popped into her mind that she hadn’t blushed or looked away once, but his voice rose and captured her attention.

_“Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world / Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before / Let your soul take you where you long to be!”_

Francis had stepped away from her again, walking around the stage as if the set pieces were there.  She could only stare as he effortlessly reached the high note.  The music paused.

_“…Only then can you belong to me…”_

Madeleine’s body moved toward him on its own.  She thought his acting had been good before, but this – this was passion.

_“Floating, falling, sweet intoxication / Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation…”_

With one arm, he dared to pull Madeleine closer.  She sighed as Francis placed a hand under her chin and tilted her head upward.  She responded by caressing the side of his face.

_“Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in / To the power of the music that I write / The power of the music of the night.”_

As the music moved into the bridge, Francis leaned in close to Madeleine.  “This way, chérie,” she heard him whisper.  She was dimly aware that he was leading her downstage.  Slowly, he eased her to the floor.  She rested her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes.

She knew that he was supposed to project his voice so the audience could hear, but instead, he sang the last lines softly.  _“You alone can make my song take flight / Help me make the music of the night.”_

The last notes disappeared into the air.  Madeleine didn’t move, her mind still absorbing what had happened.  She felt Francis shift underneath her…

…And he reached over to shut off the CD player.

“That’s about how the song should go,” he said mildly, as if he hadn’t been seducing his co-star.  He pulled back just enough so that he could see her face.  “I think you did very well.  Just remember what we did when we practice with the director.”

Madeleine blinked.  She felt as though she was waking up from a spell.  It took a moment for her mind to catch up with what he said.  “Um… yeah.  I’ll do that.”  She should probably be standing up right about now, but Francis was making no motion to move, and frankly, she didn’t want to do that either.  They were silent for a moment.

“Francis… were you–” she paused, thinking of what to say. “Were you singing that song as the Phantom to Christine, or were you singing it from it from you to me?”

A smile spread across his face.  “There’s no reason why it couldn’t be both.”

For the first time that night, Madeleine blushed.

“I was hoping that would work!  You will have to forgive me, Madeleine, but I did plan this a little.  I asked Roma to call this practice, but I also asked for everyone to go home, including him.  I really wanted you to become better with this song, but at the same time, I also hoped…” he gave an embarrassed shrug.

She held him in a quick but tight hug.  “Francis, do you know how long I’ve had a crush on you?  And then, for you to tell me like this…”

“I’ve felt the same way, but I wasn’t certain of how to tell you.  But, I did make this decision quickly, and so now I wonder if I was being a little…”

“Over-dramatic?” Madeleine supplied with a laugh.  “It’s just so like you, though.  You do these kinds of things, and that’s why I like you.”

“Oh, I knew I loved you…”  It was Francis’s turn to hold her close.  “…I do hate to end this here, but I don’t think the staff will like us very much if we spend all night in the theatre.”  Just as before, he stood up and helped her rise.  He unplugged the CD player, grabbed the handle, and followed Madeleine as she exited the stage and walked on to the wings.  She pushed open the door to the backstage, but stopped.

“Um… Francis?  All the lights in the hall are off.”

He peered over her shoulder, and sure enough, they were.

“Uh… I did not plan for this.  Maybe the lights are automatic…?”

“Either way, we’ll just have to feel our way along the walls.”

The two pressed their left hands to the wall and shuffled forward, remembering the turns where they could.  They knew the doors to the outside couldn’t be far.

“Hey, is this the part when you kidnap me and take me to your underground lair beneath the theatre?” Madeleine joked.

Francis laughed.  “No, I could have never designed that! But –” he said, as the double-doors came into view, “I could take you for a night out, if you liked.”

She reached back and took his free hand.  “I’d love that.”


End file.
